A/N: Heeeeeeeeey! How are you wonderful people of the internet? I know. It's been a long time. But there have been a couple - see five - hard months irl and it's been too draining just to open the damn Word. But, thankfully, I'm writing again. Third installment of this wonderful emotional mess of this story (I was explaining to my mum and she joked about it being soap opera-ish but I regret NOTHING)

So, next chapter is up, hope you like it. No beta this once because both me and my beta are busy, so excuse any mistakes.

Title: Fake it till you make it
Genre:Romance, humour, slice of life, child care(kind of)
AU: Fake Marriage, Modernday


Today was Thursday.

This marked the sixth day she spent in this house. And all five previous nights Hajime had not once come to bed with her; or after. In fact, she made it a point to set some sort of alarm clock around two or three to make sure she wasn't overreacting, but no, there he was, lying face-down in his case file, on his preferred chair. And every night she would shake her head, sigh and then proceed to cover him with a blanket—every single one.

Saturday, she said nothing more; when Sunday rolled around, she woke up around nine. She blinked the sleep away, headed for the bathroom; Hajime was already up and about, sipping on his coffee, in a new mug, a fresh batch. He still wore last night's clothes, but he looked refreshed—Tokio guessed even that sort of sleep did him good. As they had agreed, they woke Aiko-chan up later than usual and instead of getting breakfast ready, they all got dressed up to go for a nice walk, grab a bite on the road and then visit whatever restaurant Hajime wanted.

Unsurprisingly, he chose a cozy little family diner, not half an hour away from their house, on foot.

Lunch was a quiet affair, with Aiko-chan doing most of the talking; both adults were content to just let her go on and on about her school, her friends, her teachers, her classes. It was relaxing. They got home relatively late, but then they visited his parents, where Okita was already waiting. Tokio's guess about Okita's stakes in Hajime's "relationship" with her, as well as his role in Aiko's life was proven as a fact when she actually ran in his arms upon glimpsing him, the moment the door opened—as well as the way he effortlessly swooped her up and made her laugh.

They stayed there another couple of hours and then they all went home...and Hajime right back to his case, once everyone had settled down. His daughter hadn't even gone to sleep when he opened his file. The way Tokio looked at him, caused Aiko to pat her head, knowingly, just as Tokio would do to a child.

"Daddy works hard," was all she had said and she couldn't discern if Aiko was sad, disappointed or proud. Maybe all at the same time.

Point was, Sunday was slow; she thought it wasn't too much of an abuse to pull the same as yesterday night, because he could afford to go to sleep a little later. They even discussed what the next day was going to be like—which was going to be every day from then on: they woke up, got Aiko ready for school, fed her, drove her there - at first both then either one – and then they went to their respective jobs. Tokio would pick her up and go home, around four. That's when Tokio nodded she understood, started making a schedule in her head about when to cook and what and headed off to sleep.

But when she woke up, startled from some noise outside, she saw Hajime hadn't joined her yet. Yet; she was being nice. He wouldn't join her tonight, too, she should be thinking. So, she took that same blanket, headed to the kitchen, saw him sleeping on the chair and put it over his shoulders. He didn't even stir, again. She sighed and headed off to bed.

Monday was difficult for her. She wasn't used to waking up at such an early hour—at least not to take care of anyone other than herself. But now she had to go wake Aiko-chan, and get a breakfast started. To her relief, Hajime offered to do one of those things and he relegated waking her up to him. She made both a hearty breakfast – glaring her supposed fiance with a vengeance – to keep them until afternoon, packed them snacks and then rushed to get herself presentable for work while trying to pick out clothes for Aiko. The little girl had said she wanted her to do it, and not her dad...hoping Tokio would say yes to an all-gray outfit. But when Tokio suggested the pink and the black combo, Aiko lost all hope. Seeing the disappointment in her eyes, Tokio chuckled. "how about this gray blouse with the pink and black hearts on it to go with the black pants?" Aiko nodded, somewhat satisfied. Then it was getting her to school, which was easy, seeing they were running late and they all had to hurry and then, just another day at work...only this once she set an alarm clock for two past forty.

Good thing she did, too because she had time to take care of her immediate loose ends and then head straight for school and pick Aiko up, that thank Buddha Hajime remembered to list her as one of the people who would be picking her up. Judging by the teacher's evident surprise at her appearance, it was safe to say he hadn't specified why Tokio would be picking her up, only that she would. Apparently, miss Sakura was expecting a baby-sitter, around the age of twenty. No matter, Tokio took her home, cooked her a meal, and made sure she was full before she asked about what she did next.

"Grandma has me watch some TV, or give me a book to read..." Aiko answered Tokio's pensive look, without her ever opening her mouth. Wow, this kid was sharp.

"What do you want to do?"

"S...spend some time...with you?"

Her heart would literally burst; she was so cute. "I have some work to do, still...but you can help me with it!" That got the little girl interested. "I need you to put these papers in chronological order; do you know what chronological means?"

She shook her head. "That's a big word," she excused herself, blush creeping on her cheeks.

"It is," Tokio assured "and a grown up word, too. But let me tell you what it means: it relates to the way things happened, sorted by time; so, if I ask you to put things in such order, it means I want you to put the oldest first and the newest last. For instance, if I ask you to put your family in such order, who goes first? Who's the oldest?"

"Granddad."

"Who's the youngest?"

"Me."

"So..."

"Grandpa Rintaro; grandpa Jirou; grandma Masu; grandma Miki; daddy; you; and me!"

She clapped. "There you go! What a smart girl you are, Aiko-chan! You got it right on the first try." Tokio kissed her forehead. "Well done." The girl blushed deeper. "So, would you like to help me with work by putting these papers in chronological order?"

She nodded furiously. Smiling, Tokio produced a small pack of papers; taking one from the fold, she showed it to the little girl.

"See this up here?" On the left upper corner of the document there was a date stamp. "This is the date this document was created. So, if I want you to put these in chronological order, what do I want?"

"The oldest date goes first; the newest last."

"Exactly! My, you are such a fast learner. Once we are finished I'll give you a reward." Aiko-chan became instantly excited; winking, Tokio patted her head. "And if you do this right, I'll give you another one."

"Yes, yes, I will! I will! I want chocolate."

"We'll see what the reward will be; I'll talk to daddy. Now, let's get to work!"

She produced another type of document from the briefcase for herself, one that was comprised by maybe ten pages, all stapled together; although Aiko-chan's curiosity was growing, it only took one prompting look from Tokio to get her started on her appointed task.

It took her half an hour. The papers weren't all that much, but the dates were mixed up and poor Aiko-chan had to rearrange everything every now and then; this was the first time she ever did this, too. But Tokio had a feeling if she did this two or three times more, she would easily make a system of her own, much more efficient than any other person her age. Tokio was impressed. With a little bit of honing, this little girl could be a lot of things.

What mattered was that in the end, Aiko produced great results: she actually made no mistakes at all and the stack was orderly.

"Perfect," Tokio praised her once she was over; Aiko beamed. "Let's call daddy, ask him his opinion." She took out her cell phone; she waited until she heard his voice on the other end. "Hello, Hajime! Aiko-chan and I—...wh, why are you, what...?"

Tokio deflated visibly. "I'm sorry; you are right. I didn't think of—I know, I'm sorry." She sighed. "I'm sorry...no, that's not why I called." She looked at Aiko then, and she was surprised to see her deflated, too.

Oh; oh shit. Did she hear her father upset and got upset too? Did she see Tokio sad and mirrored her? This child was very empathetic...she had to work on keeping a better poker face. She coughed the knot in her throat away and tried to smile as best as she could.

"Aiko-chan just won herself two rewards," she informed, giving the girl an one-armed hug "and we were wondering what's allowed on a week day. Is chocolate okay? What if I cook a special dinner?" She hummed, nodding. "Alright, I see; thanks for the info. Sweetie, say hi and thank you to daddy, too."

Both were surprised by that, Hajime and the girl, who rushed, a little panicked to find something to say. And although she could tell about Aiko because she was right in front of her, she could also hear the slight awkwardness from Hajime in her earpiece, too, before she gave the phone.

"Hi daddy! How are you?" She giggled. "Thank you daddy; bye bye! Tokaa-san say bye bye, too." Aiko gave back the phone, feeling better than ten seconds ago.

"When will you be coming back?" she asked instead; that must have taken him aback, too because there was a long stretch of silence, before he finally replied with a mumbled time. "Alright, see you then. Bye, Hajime. Give my best to Okita."

Once she hanged up, Aiko seemed upset she didn't get to speak to Okita, too. "Well, daddy said no to chocolate sweets...but yes to a chocolate drink! How about I make you a delicious steaming hot cup of chocolate? I'll even put a dash of whipped cream in it."

"Yay!" She put her arms around whatever she could grab from Tokio and squeezed.

"Choco, choco, choco!" she started chanting and didn't stop until Tokio had started preparing it. Once it was ready, Tokio let it cool for a moment and then gave it to the girl. "Sweetie, you drink your chocolate now, I'll finish up with work. Once we're both done, I promise we'll do something together, okay?"

"Yes, yes, yes! I'd like to play; or read a book; we could make some crafts—uncle Okita always builds me houses out of toilet paper."

"That's some skill," she admitted, chuckling at the mental image, as she headed to her papers.

She didn't have much to do, only some digging. A man was accused of sexual harassment by a woman at the company; usually that was something the HR dealt with but this once, they were at a loss. If they found the man guilty, he would be fired—this was no simple whistle or inappropriate comment he would get probation for. This was an act of sexual harassment and, should things go well, she'd be the head of the company in a very short while and she wanted to set an example. No man, or woman, was allowed to be a possible danger to anyone. The reason the HR were at a loss was because this particular man was an advocate for many women, always took their side and so far, he himself had reported several cases of such harassment.

And now, for someone to turn around and accuse him, it was too jarring. The woman claimed she had made several complaints before this one, which proved his increasingly alarming behaviour, he says the exact opposite. He says she kept getting too friendly with him and when she outright asked him out, he said no...and she took it a little too personally and if anything, the complaints were his. Not only did she never file any, but tried to make his disappear as well.

She said the same.

It was all a he-said, she-said type of thing and she hated it; both were respected people within the company and whoever was found to be the lying party, would be promptly fired. So, she needed to be one hundred percent right, as well as set the example she wanted.

So, what did she do? Right before she left, she went to the hard drives and pulled any and all deleted complaints; she had the IT department help and thankfully it worked, because she ended up with about fifty complaints that were either deemed solved or got accidentally deleted, all in the time frame both people claimed they made theirs but were never heard.

So, Tokio sat on the couch with her papers, crossing her legs, reading. Hajime said he wouldn't be back for another couple of hours anyway, so she had plenty of time..and yet, it took her less than ten minutes to spot the liar. Fuck that. Fuck that wholly. Instantly, she went for her phone and called the IT guy who had helped her.

"Hello Hayato, how are you? It's me again; I'm afraid I have another difficult request for you, for tomorrow, bright and early: can you find out which user deleted the files I asked for? Hm...I see. No, that's feasible. Great; see you tomorrow at seven, then, before anyone else comes. Of course it will be overtime. Perfect. See you then."

Bastards.

"Uh-uh," Aiko commented from next to her "someone's in trouble."

"Oh yes; lots of it. But you don't need to concern yourself with all of that! See, I finished work for today; once you finish your choco—no, don't rush to drink it...we'll do whatever you want. Now drink, normally."

She did as she was told...but not without stealing glances at Tokio; in fact, she kept doing it so often, the woman got curious. "What is it?" She said nothing, simply stared at her cup.

Cut to ten seconds later, she was glancing Tokio's way again. "Come on, out with it." She turned back to her drink. "Tell me, what's bothering you? I don't mind answering at all."

That did it. Aiko immediately relaxed her shoulders, eyes turning this way, then another. "...why was daddy upset earlier? On the phone?"

How stupid can she be? Tokio could slap herself. Of course she would still think about that. "Well, I forgot to call daddy and tell him I picked you up from school."

"And why is that upsetting?"

"Because sweetie, dad told granny not to come, so I could; so, if I had forgotten, you'd be alone there."

That seemed to be an entirely foreign concept to the little girl, who pursed her lips and shook her head disapprovingly, a spitting image of Masu-san from yesterday. "But how could you forget?"

"It doesn't matter; daddy loves you very much and worries. He trusts me to be responsible...but when it comes to one's children, one can never be too sure, you know? He'd do the same to granny, I bet."

She giggled. "He does; and grandma hates it." They shared the giggle this once. "So, what do we do now, Tokaa-san?"

"Hm...we could watch a movie. Or I could start teaching you a second language!" The girl seemed not to like that alternative. "What? You have no homework, do you?"

"Too much teaching for one day..."

"I won't pressure you, but knowing a second language is a big asset.." The girl pouted; Tokio shook her head. She would address this issue-idea with Hajime. "How about I read you a grown-up book for now?"

"Oh, oh, oh I know! Rei-sensei was talking about a bard today; can you tell me who that is?"

"They were talking about William Shakespeare; he's a famous English playwright, poet and actor from the 16th century."

"Oooooh, he's dead now."

She had to chuckle. "Yes sweetie, long dead...have you ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?" Aiko nodded. "He was the one who wrote it."

"Awww..."

"He has many more famous plays, naturally...say, Aiko-chan, would you like me to tell you all of his plays and decide which one you like best? I'll read it to you."

"Yes!"

.

Saitou was worried that day; then maybe a little guilty. And after that one phone call, Tokio didn't call again and he had no idea if she did it to spite him, because she was busy or if she simply forgot again. So, in an effort to face less of a storm when he returned home, he did his best to be back by the time he gave her—even if it was approximated; naturally, he wasn't expecting an attack upon arriving...but there his daughter was, flinging herself upon him, the moment he opened the door and took off his shoes.

And actual sneak attack from his own offspring, who was quite obviously lying in wait, ready to ambush him. She sprang out from the left, the side of the kitchen, and grabbed his legs, ramming him with her head, too! She screamed something he wasn't sure he understood and did her best so bring him down.

A little disbelieving, a little amused – at the thought Tokio had her do this to get some sort of satisfaction out of seeing him face the floor – he fought hard to keep his balance; but when the initial attack did not fell him, it was a lost cause for the girl. She would not drag him to the floor. His smile was immediate, even if involuntary.

"What are you doing, little plum?"

"The Englishmen are the enemy!" was all she replied with and pulled him down with more ferocity, but to no avail.

Ok, so he hadn't misheard that; he blinked, chuckling. "Say what now?"

"Sweetie," came Tokio's reproach just as she emerged from the hallway – bathroom, if he heard that flush right – "what are you doing down there?" shaking her head, she stopped her scolding just to greet him, a fleeting kiss on the cheek.

He almost shivered. What was it with this woman and her casual way of...acting near or with him? Why was she so comfortable kissing him? What was up with her?

Still, she really did act as she was "supposed to" for the kiss was brief but familiar; she had climbed on her tip toes and then back down she looked, to raise her eyebrows at Aiko...who simply repeated the same thing.

"Englishmen are the enemy!"

"Is dad supposed to be the Englishmen?" She nodded; Tokio chuckled. "Daddy is not an enemy; he never is. Yes? Give him another role."

"...but I like that one."

"What's going on here?" He asked, wanting to know but honestly, kind of okay with this situation.

"I told her about Shakespeare; we were reading one of his plays from the internet before you came."

"Interesting; and what did you learn, little plum?"

"Men are stupid." He widened his eyes a bit. "And the English used to hate everyone."

"Well, not exactly," Tokio stepped in "the English didn't—politics is more complicated than that honey, we talked about this. The politicians take emotions and use them against the people."

"Oh, you are correcting her about the Englishmen," Saitou teased "not that bit about men."

Obviously, her eyes conveyed. "The sooner she learns that, the better. She'll have so much less stuff to worry about. Right honey?" Aiko nodded, decidedly. "Perfect; now let go of daddy."

The wrestling maneuvre turned into a hug and he picked her up effortlessly, planting a kiss on her forehead. "We have to eat dinner, now" he said then, out of the blue, savouring the lingering comfort that hug gave him "have to wash our hands. Come on."

The girl jumped out of his hands just as he was putting her down with practiced ease, evidence to the fact he probably does that a lot. She smiled at them. "I made beef."

Aiko became excited at the mention of that and turned around to face Tokio. "Daddy loves beef!"

"That's why I made it," she lied expertly, winking at the girl, causing her to giggle that little giggle of hers that made both adults' hearts melt.

They had dinner, they spent some time with Aiko; after a couple of hours, the girl was exhausted and went to bed; she asked Tokio to tuck her in twice in a row, making Saitou pout. When she returned, ten minutes later, she sat next to him on the couch, legs crossing.

"Hey."

Finally, something more like her; it even sounded closer to her real pitch, too, his ears relaxed. It was heavier, less forced and oh so tired. "How was your day?"

"Hell; yours?"

"Same." She clicked her tongue. "I have a nasty developing HR case that I'm trying to take care of and it upsets me because I'll have to fire two people." His reactions betrayed he did not expect it to be so serious. She sighed. "It's a real mess." A snort escaped her. "But Aiko-chan helped."

"How?"

"I had her put some stuff in chronological order and that basically cleared the whole thing up."

"I see you already won her over," he chose to bring up then "with your rewards and your plays; imagine if I was late, what would have happened."

"Oh hush," she waved him away "it was her idea, not mine." She fell on the back of the sofa, resting her own back and neck there as if her life depended on it. She looked at him with the edge of her eyes. "And I'm sorry, for not calling." That, she did not huff around. It was said clear. "I am not used to reporting for things. Whenever I'm watching my nieces, it's because their parents are out of town, so I only call them once a day." She looked back at him again, not looking away. "I'm sorry; I'll do better tomorrow."

"...I appreciate that."

Huh; no complains. Interesting.

"Oh," she only then realised "I need to be at work an hour earlier tomorrow; will that be an issue?"

"No, I'll take her to school, leave whenever you want. Just make sure you have her lunch ready."

"Already did it! I used whatever was left from the beef and made it a nice meal that she can eat cold."

"Great." He put his hands on his thighs to push off of the couch.

"Made you some, too," she said just then, making him look back at her surprised. "I have a feeling you'll come back later tomorrow; a little something to keep you. Have it in the fridge in aluminum foil."

"...thanks. You shouldn't have."

She shrugged. "It's what I'd do. And it's a good thing to do, in general; that way, your coworkers can tease you about your fiance, and how she's already trying to play the role of wife and all that." She winked. "It's a win-win."

This woman was scary; she thought of everything. Though what a way to make a thoughtful gesture appear like a calculated chess move; to think he almost felt touched at that, what an idiot. Belly full, misunderstanding cleared, he went to his favourite chair to deal with his least favourite case by far, pulling out the file. He did not miss the way her eyes followed him, nor the small twitch of her mouth, ready to say something but then deciding against it.

It might had been ten minutes later that she put her phone down and announced "I'm making myself a chamomile; would you like some coffee?"

"Yes please," was his immediate answer.

She was going to comment on his willingness to ignore her in favour of his work, but, she realised, it was best not to be too contestant with him. He did say his day was hell, it'd be a shame to add to that. Make him some coffee and be done with it. She'd tell him her opinion when he came to bed.

...or so she thought, because that night and every night after that, he never came.

Next day, she went to work, found out who was the one colluding with the harassing party, which, in a twist, turned out to be the woman. The man was actually innocent. Tokio could see all of his complaints erased and then, the exact same wording used about two days later for each and every one of those, by the woman. But the original ones...yeah, this was bad. She would be fired—her and her accomplish. She hadn't known what they were trying to achieve, but she did find out when she confronted them with the evidence.

It was a money-making scheme that turned south because she got a crush on the certain guy who wouldn't return her affections. Tuesday wasn't kind to her at all.

Then she picked Aiko up from school and they went grocery shopping. She decided on chicken for tonight and tomorrow's lunches so not only did she have to buy the meat, but the vegetables, too, for the sides. Maybe some rice for the next day.

Without realising, this became her routine; go to work, pick Aiko up, walk around with her, come back home to cook. It was almost crazy how easily she fell into it, too—by the time Thursday rolled around and she had to pull up her sleeves, only then did she feel accomplished and how her obligations for the day were coming to an end. That was crazy. And Aiko followed right after her. In fact, it was her comment that made her stop and think. They were idly chatting as Tokio cut some carrots and zucchinis and the girl giggled.

Then, she observed "what fast moves, Tokaa-san! Grandma's slower because she always cuts her fingers." A giggle followed. "But you do everything like that. Daddy calls you unyielding...but I don't know what that means."

She chuckled. "It's close to stubborn."

"Ooooh...but you still cook for him; and me; and do your chores."

She laughed, good-naturedly. "I wouldn't let him go hungry for calling me that."

"Of course! Tokaa-san is nice...! And granny says although you're here only a week,it already feels like you've been here forever."

That was it.

Yes, it was true. It did feel like that. She stopped cutting the vegetables just to think about it.

She...wasn't wrong. Masu-san was very perceptive. Tokio looked at Aiko, looking up at her with those amber, big eyes and smiled to hide the awkwardness. It was only five days, but she was already making herself a routine. It was because of the child, her logic told her, children need routine to function. Yet something felt weird about it.

And all the while, Hajime hadn't deigned, or dared, to share a room with her. How surreal, all of it. At the same time, she couldn't help but feel so, so sorry for him; folding himself in that chair for nothing, every single night, out of what? Moral obligation? What, did he think she'd take it as a forward move? He was the one who mentioned it first and she did make it clear to him she understood the necessity...

That afternoon, Hajime came home late. After she and Aiko had their meal, Tokio took her to her gran's across the hall, so she could clean up and tidy around the house unobstructed; when he came back, he had to actually go get Aiko, too. Of course, she was too tired to stay up for long, and after half an hour of clinging to her father, she finally fell asleep on his shirt. After five long days, he finally had the honours of tucking her in.

In a good mood because of that, he did not head straight for his case whence he reemerged from his own room, dressed for the night. Instead, he sat next to her and asked her how her day was; how her parents were—and when he'd get to meet them. He even went as far as to notice she seemed a little off about something, to which she denied it all and simply chucked it up to being exhausted from work and housework combined.

"It shows, I meant to thank you," he said then "you're making it much easier, to be honest."

"Making what easier?"

"Everything." He shrugged. "I no longer dread the moment Aiko goes to sleep and I'll have to do everything—or whatever mother doesn't do. And I can't ask her to do much, so..."

"But that's every day."

He nodded, uncaring. "I know."

That's when he finally stood from next to her and went to the fearsome chair. She remained looking at him, all out of sorts. What was up with this Thursday? It's twice she feels like this, because of something a Saitou said. This once, the father; he must be leading a very tiring, stressful and lonely life, to say that so casually. Her heart went out to him and at the same time, she really felt like slapping him. Because he would still not join her to bed.

So, that night, she decided to make things better yet; that, or she would cause him to build an even bigger wall around him than he already had. She could feel all of her efforts crush against it, but maybe tonight would be a little different. So, as she lay down to sleep, she set her alarm clock for twelve am; mind made, she drifted off instantly. And when the alarm clock went off, she noticed his absence, yet again. He was nowhere to be seen.

Alright. She would do this.

She stood and put her robe over her nightgown. She did not bother tip-toeing around him, her purpose was to wake him anyway. And yet, this once, he was still up, pouring over his strategically scattered files. The sound of the door opening caused him to look up, but only for a moment; as soon as he spotted her, thinking she wanted to use the bathroom, he looked down again. But she proved him wrong when he heard her footsteps approach him and his ears burned.

"Hajime," she began, a little disapproving "what are you doing?"

Her tone implied she would not like the answer he was going to give her, as well as foresight of said answer; on the other hand, his tone was completely defensive, feeling the judgment, as well as the discontent rolling off of her. "Working."

"It's already twelve; you wake up at six."

"I am aware."

"Go to sleep, Hajime," she half-urged, half-complained.

"I will...eventually."

"On this chair? Some sleep that is."

"I do it all the time," he almost snubbed "did it long before you came; this isn't a reflection on you, if that's what you're worried about."

She clicked her tongue. "That's not what I'm worried about, Hajime." She dragged out his name. "I mean, maybe, it's a little odd how one would refuse to sleep with their future wife, but it's work, so that's fine, but also, you know, and...you know, so I'm chiefly concerned about you right now."

She gave him a look, making a pause that compelled him to look at her, coupled with the fact she came even closer. "I've been here almost a week, and I never woke up to find you next to me."

"Right." He smirked at her then. "You just put blankets over me."

Huffing, she put her arms on her waist. "You prefer me not to? You'll catch a death of a cold!" Shaking her head, she fell into the chair next to him. "Go to sleep, Hajime, please. Please. Come sleep with me."

It was his turn to give her a look. "Are you serious? You really want me to?"

"We are both adults," she lamented as she stood, going behind him; her hands found his shoulders "you lie next to me and probably turn your back on me because you're so very proper and drift off in seconds; or, even if you don't, or you do but somehow you still turn around and we touch or you grab me, big deal. It won't kill me. I'm not that shy, anyway."

All the while, she was squeezing his shoulders, in a light massaging motion, rocking back and forth. "You aren't that shy, too are you?"

She could feel his defenses slowly fall, but when he slightly angled his head to look at her, she knew she almost had him. "So, please Hajime, come to bed. Please."

"I..."

"Please. I asked your daughter yesterday and do you know what she said? That this is normal; that's too much though, don't you think?" She leaned to his right, to look at him properly; they stared at one another for a long time. "Come on," eyebrows high, prompting "come to bed."

One; two; three seconds passed. A sigh left his lips and he broke eye contact, head lowering. "Fine, you win," he gave in.

Her smile was too wide.

"Like always," he added bitterly in the end.

"That's because so far, I've always been right." She squeezed his shoulders one final time and then proceeded to close the file on her own. "Let's sleep properly for once; the first of plenty, hopefully," she continued despite his snort.

"Properly, she says."

She chuckled. "Yes properly; on a mattress and everything."

"Tokio." Just as she was about to leave, he put her hand over hers, effectively stopping her. "Thank you."

Whether because she figured out his character or she felt guilty for pushing him out of his bed, he didn't know, but she did that one thing that would make him, him of all people, willingly lie in bed with a stranger. She was too intuitive; and too manipulative. He was both impressed and grateful. He would never admit it, but he did need the sleep. And when she simply smiled at him, pulling him out of the chair, in return, something warmed in his heart. Maybe she wasn't as calculative as he thought her; or maybe that wasn't that much of a bad thing.

She still wasn't out of the woods yet.

And she wanted to make sure Hajime did not get cold feet as they approached the bed, so she shut the door behind her after him. Taking off her socks, she pulled the covers down and got in first. She didn't actually lie, too, she sat up, not covering herself.

"Lie down already," she complained patting the empty side of the bed next to her, just as she saw him hesitate "unless you prefer the left side, too."

"No, that's...right's fine."

A little stiff, a little wary, he did it. "I won't bite," she joked but once he lay there, she actually covered both of them and lay properly herself. "Goodnight Hajime."

"Goodnight."

Oh god, it came—the moment he was dreading. Objectively, she was right—they were only going to sleep; and yet, something kept him back from attempting it. And once he did, for the first five minutes, he was all nerves; he had no idea what to do with his hands or his feet, how did he ever sleep before? He was a little too stiff to be comfortable and too unmoving to be natural, some of his limbs started going numb...!

And then he heard it. Heavy breathing next to him, a rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, all the more pronounced by the blankets. He only needed to turn his head to see it: she was fast asleep. He could have slapped himself; he was worrying over nothing. She was, apparently, as relaxed about this as she claimed. A small self-depreciating smirk later, he was drifting off to sweet, sweet oblivion, too. He was finally falling asleep, on an actual bed, even if not his, next to a woman decidedly not his. And yet, so far, it worked out for him.

Ridiculous, but so, so relieving.

Next morning, he woke up to the sound of his alarm, even if all of the previous times, he had woken up on his own. His eyes opened immediately, but his body didn't follow; it was reluctant to rise. Whatever this mattress was made of...it did wonders to his back. Although, naturally, it still hurt, nearly as much as when he slept on his bed. Huh; what money does to one's back; he bet this damn thing costed a fortune.

Oh right; Tokio.

He looked to his right, to find her there, taking up more than her half of the bed, as she was sprawled out, still sleeping. He, on the other hand, no matter if he was at least twenty whole centimetres taller than her, barely took up his own space...while her one leg had wrapped around one of his.

How? She was tiny.

Then again, what was he saying, Aiko did the very same thing. Shaking his head, he simply kept looking at her as her chest rose and fell steadily. She was unbothered by his movements – he had tried getting up the moment his alarm went off, even if he decided against it – and felt completely like home, banishing him from the bed. Then again, this was her bed to begin with—she had his stored in her apartment. But to think she was so calm about this, he found it impressive.

A second alarm clock went off then, one that wasn't his, and he almost jumped. Tokio, on the other hand, did jolt; it was hers. It came from next to her pillow and as soon as it started, the woman started stirring. Groaning, she stretched, hit him in the face with her fist, and fumbled around to stop the sound. It took her a moment and a half to realise she actually hit something and turned to her left, to watch an amused, supposedly annoyed Hajime.

"Good...morning," she said through an involuntary yawn and tried to sit up; she only managed to prop herself up on her elbows. She hung her head. "I hate waking up at this ungodly hour...!" she complained and started retrieving her limbs that must have gone numb, because they felt too heavy and clumsy and definitely hit his ankle there a couple of times, but she took no note. When she clicked her tongue and fell on her back gracelessly, he was verified.

She made noises of a dying cat and made the effort to stand again. "Good morning," he finally said after she was done whining. "Can't say sleeping did you any good."

She clicked her tongue, dissatisfied, eyes finally opening a crack. "What a prick...but did you sleep well?"

"Actually, yes," he informed "this is a good bed. My back hasn't felt this good in years."

Her pathetic expression told him she felt for him. "I was having problems with my back, too—that's why I bought this mattress. Ugh, come on, let's get up, or we're going to be late. You take breakfast, I'll wake Aiko-chan."

"You take breakfast; I'll wake up Aiko."

"...defensive, are we" she commented, eyebrow quirking, smirk already forming. "Are you maybe jealous, Hajime? That she likes me so much she wants me putting her to bed and waking her up every morning?" He pursed his lips. "Well, don't be, it'll pass. I'm the shining new toy, you're her dad. She'll grow tired of me in a month."

"Month's too long," he grumbled under his breath, but she caught it and laughed.

"Fine, you go wake her up; I'm making breakfast. Who's getting her to school?"

"Can you do it? I'll be going to the office a little early."

She nodded and before long, she was finally on her feet, but not before stumbling and stepping on him, because their legs were still intertwined. She looked at him a little shocked. "I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?"

He waved her away. Much redder in the face because of her realisation and her uncoordinated movements, she left the room, leaving him to contemplate what did he ever do to deserve this? Whether it was on the fortunate or unfortunate side though...remained to be seen.

.

.

"Is daddy no longer upset?"

Tokio's eyes slid to the girl curled up on the couch, shocked, almost surreptitiously; what did she mean by that? What made her think so on the first place? She was his daughter, so she was sure to know his moods much better than her, but she had picked up zero signs of distress from his part.

"Why would you think he's upset, honey?"

"Well...I didn't; he didn't...look like it. But, um, didn't he...you slept in the same room yesterday, yes? Doesn't that mean you made up?"

Tokio couldn't help the small smile. She turned to the girl from her spot on the floor and gave her a look. "I thought you said daddy sleeps on that chair all the time."

She turned red. "He does," she murmured "but not every night..."

Aiko must have felt too bad about that though, because she buried her head in the pillow after hugging it and refused to look up again, not until Tokio came by and pried it away from her hands. "Sweetie," she began, taking her in a hug of her own, kissing the top of her head "daddy wasn't upset. He was nervous. He was busy with work, worried about you and how you'd take it, me moving in, and, well, we had never spent an entire day together before. I was nervous, too. It's just I'm nearly as—..."

Shit. What would she say? Invested? She'd sound horrible.

"I hide my nervousness better than daddy," she decided in the end and looked at the girl for a long time.

"So, I didn't say anything stupid?" Tokio nodded no. "You won't be mad at daddy?" She shook her head. "Or me..."

"I won't; only if you promise me not to lie to me again, for whatever reason, yes sweetie?" She nodded furiously. "There you go. Now; what do you want to do until daddy comes back? Would you like to read some more of our play?"

"Yes! Shakespeare, Shakespeare!"

.

.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't cover up your daughter's lies, Hajime," was the first thing that came out of her lips when they were left alone that night; she had some news to share, too, but this took precedent. "Aiko-chan let it slip today, how you sleep nearly as much as she told me on that chair."

Hajime smiled, unable to help himself. She hit him with the back of her hand.

"Don't enable her! I know it was a white lie and more for my sake than anything, but come on. She still lied to me. That's unacceptable."

"It won't happen again," he simply said, trying to hide his mirth as much as he could.

"It better not." A sigh later, she fell on the couch next to him. "But I set up a meeting with my parents."

No warning; she just sprang this on him. He blinked, twice. "Pardon?"

"It's about time you two meet my parents; technically they are going to be her new grandparents." Saitou clicked his tongue; she shrugged, defensively. "You know I'm right, don't be like that...! So, I called them and asked when it was convenient for them; they gave me three days: this Sunday, next Thursday or the Monday in two weeks from now. When can you make it? Naturally, evening hours."

"At least you didn't arrange it before asking me when I'm able." She glared; he clicked his tongue again, looking away. "Next Thursday works best for me."

"Perfect; that was my preferred day as well. I'll tell Aiko about it, too."

"Is it a good idea for your father to meet me in my daughter's presence? I feel like he can get very scathing."

Shaking her head, she assured him "if anything, Aiko-chan will make him less inclined to spew poison. No, no, it's best she's there. Trust me."

He gave up. Fine, they'll have it her way. "You know them better..." Exactly, her wink conveyed; he could have smothered her for such confidence. Not that misplaced, if he was being honest, as so far she's only been getting her way. Irked, he stood. "Did you prepare hot water like I told you on the phone?"

"Yeah, feel free to go have a bath."

He couldn't even be petty about that, damn it; still, he really needed that bath. With what they found out at work today, he felt like he wanted to have ten, just to rid him of the stench of being a man around so many women. Ah, what a day. To think he would get to submerge himself in water, that was a rarity, but he needed it. Fingers traveled to the tie with practiced ease and pulled it loose, discarding it easily; shirt followed, just as the door of the bath shut behind him. He just wanted to relax, unbothered; him and the hot water. That's why he turned it on and let it fill the tub, waiting until it filled, as he shed the rest of his clothes. Hot water and bliss—that was the goal. Right...

A knock on the door jolted him.

"Hajime," he blinked at the mention of his name; strange. His eyelids felt heavy; stranger "you've been in there for almost an hour."

What, really? He didn't realise. Well, she did sound legitimately concerned... "I'm coming out in a minute," he announced as he stood, turning the water on, to rinse.

"Alright," her tone changed from alarmed, to guarded "I was just wondering." She eavesdropped, noticing the sound of running water now stopped. "Take your time if you need it, I don't want to use the restroom."

"Nah, I'm done."

The door opened just as he said it, making her yelp surprised and jump back! He gave her a look; she seemed displeased. "I didn't expect you to be so quick about it," she excused herself, feeling judged by his piercing eyes. "And don't use just a towel at this time of year, you'll catch a cold," she scolded, eyes running up and down his naked torso and barely covered legs. "Don't you have a bathrobe?"

He shrugged. "No." He side-stepped her and started heading for his room; she followed.

"You should buy one; I mean, look at you!"

She poked at his shoulder from the back. Then somewhere around his ribs and then straight on the chest!

"You're riddled with scars and bruises; that's nothing to show off, to a little girl. She'll only be worried about you."

"Currently, Aiko is sleeping."

"Oh," she crossed her hands in front of her chest, quite arrogant "and you never bathe while she's still awake?" He shook his head no; she wasn't satisfied with that answer. "And what if she happened to wake up?"

"That's the same as going to the beach, isn't it? She sees it then—she's seen it then. I told her what they were, she accepted it. She may be a child, but she's not an idiot. Now, will you let me get dressed or you plan on staring at me for much longer? I might actually catch a cold."

Shaking her head, as if he had completely missed the point of this conversation, she turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. "You should care more about your physical well being in general," she kept talking behind the closed door, looking at the wall "you are Aiko-chan's sole legal guardian—and we plan on keeping it that way. What if your job is considered too dangerous for complete custody?"

"Tokio, these are not fresh scars."

He smirked when she jumped again as he opened the door and looked over her shoulder a little furious. "No one will be able to hold them against me—nor my profession; otherwise, no detective would ever have children."

She was not happy he chose to open the door as he was putting on his tee, because not only could she see more scars as he did it, she actually got to see how his muscles moved and it caught her eye and why did she have to look? Like, yes, obviously, she could tell he was toned just by wearing his house clothes, she didn't have to be verified like that. Then he tucked it inside his tracksuit and she had to look again, damn it!

Big hands; that was her foil. Big strong hands and arms with those veins popping. Goddamn it, brain, stop being intrigued! She stole a glance at his face and he was too busy with trying to find the front and the back of his blouse so it seemed he hadn't noticed...but she could never be too sure.

"I take it your silence means you agree."

"What? No!" She shook her head, as if snapping out of it. "I was just distracted." At her admission came his immediate smirk; her red cheeks followed. At least he had the decency not to ask by what. "Let's just hope you're right." She took a look at him then. "Your hair has gotten longer...you should use the blow-dryer."

"They'll dry on their own."

"Not fast enough."

"Stop having an answer for everything; and today was a very difficult day at work, I don't feel like reading anything. Wanna watch a movie or something?"

"...we could start a series; I have my eye on three of them."

He shrugged. "Why not?"

An hour and a half and two episodes later, he was too tired to keep watching. They decided to call it a night. Abruptly, she ran her hand through his hair in one swift motion, causing him to slightly jerk away from her. "Hm; you were right. They are dry." Somehow, that motion unsettled him, although she seemed completely innocuous and unaffected. "Fine; let's go to sleep."

She stood first, stretching, as he remained there, seated, staring at her, as if slighted. "What? You were the one who decided to call it a night first, get up." She used her leg to motivate him, nudging his calf. "Come on detective," she said it as if he was being stubborn just for the sake of being stubborn and not obviously distressed by her forward gesture "get up."

"You are kind of—"

"Authoritative? I know."

"—forward, I'd say; bordering on shameless."

She rolled her eyes dramatically and headed to the bedroom first, not even deigning his jab with an answer. Having seven days worth of interaction with her, he knew she wouldn't comment about this again—in her mind, she had won this argument – although not really – thus changed subject. And yet, following her in his own bedroom and watching her lie down before him, making herself comfortable, he couldn't help but think ok; maybe she did win; he was still as rigid and awkward as yesterday night, only less tired, thus making it even more difficult to fall asleep.

Perfect.

He turned off the lights just as she turned on her bedside lamp. She was watching him keenly, how he drew out each and every one of his moves, how it took forever to find his next morning outfit, how he fought with his slippers.

He was obviously nervous. She...really wasn't though. And maybe that only made things worse for him. It wasn't out of lack of propriety, too, it was just...he's a very respectful person; and they would be sleeping with their backs turned anyway. Or even if not, just like she said yesterday night, they were both mature people, they could handle it. Maybe he was the traditional type.

She needed to help him a little.

She sighed, quietly. Fine; she slowly pushed off the bed and went behind him. "Not that shirt with that tie; go for the monochrome one—no, not the green; the blue one."

He looked over his shoulder, a little annoyed, not by her proximity – she was basically pressed against him – but by her suggestions. He even did as she suggested at first, going for the green tie, but she still complained. What an opinionated person. And then she had the audacity to push him to the side, rummaging his closet.

"Can you never buy this horrible shade of green ever again please? Please?" She help up a suit which was a mix of mustard and green, accusingly. "Please." She actually threw it on the floor; his eyes became wide. "And never buy anything yellow again—no matter how well it matched your eyes or whatever the salesperson said to convince you. Do any of these suits have sentimental value?"

"No," he barked, but pried the yellow suit out of her hands, just as he bent down to pick the other one up "but I still—"

"What?" she challenged, hands on her waist. "Like them?" He grimaced, obviously annoyed. "Tough," she snapped, almost sadistically, "they are going. Unless your ex-wife handpicked them herself, they are going; sleeping outside; gone."

"Yaso was no longer around when I bought them—"

"Of course not," she interrupted, like it was only natural.

"—but I did; they aren't going anywhere."

"They are going; donate them to charity, give them to a friend, I don't care. But they are going. And you should wear a bordeaux pair of trousers with this shirt and tie."

"They are staying."

"Then bury them somewhere I can't accidentally glimpse them and you won't be tempted to choose them because there's no way I would ever doom any man I ever dated to wearing these in public; ever. That's why you bought it after Yaso passed; she wouldn't let you buy them either! She loved you; she cared for you. She wouldn't want you to look like..." she looked for the right words; and then she found them "a super Sentai, for instance. Hm; maybe that's where Aiko takes it from."

Oh, she didn't. Oh ho, ho, she didn't; but her smirk said that she did. So, was that it, how she was going to play this? He could, too.

"You know what, I changed my mind. This is what I'll wear tomorrow."

He put the ridiculous yellowish suit inside, closed the closet door and left the disgusting mustard-green suit hanging out. "With a nice white shirt and the green tie."

She blinked, flabbergasted. "Do you hate me? Do you actually, honestly hate me? You're gonna make me not only see this thing all night, but you'll actually wear it, outside? When people know we're engaged? That's..." She took a deep breath. "That's a low blow. I ask you to reconsider."

He had already strutted all the way to his bed. "I made up my mind," he simply said as he sat up in his bed.

"...fine; go out looking like a watered-down kappa, see if I care." She clicked her tongue. "Go buy a lime-green suit, too while you're at it, to complete the triad of eye-hurting colours in the process."

Shaking her head, she came back to the bed, purposefully hitting his face with the edge of the covers. She didn't turn her back this once, simply stared at him as they both lay down properly, glare formidable. "Goodnight Hajime; hope sleep puts your mind back into place."

"Goodnight."

And she proceeded to stare him down, as he lay on his back; he could feel her eyes on him, too as he stopped looking, eyes closed in an effort to actually sleep. He slowly drifted off, and yet he could still feel her glare. But sweet sweet oblivion came soon enough and he forgot all about her discontent and her judgmental opinions about his taste in clothes too soon.

It took her ten minutes to realise he fell asleep and only after she heard him snore did she believe it—no one could fake that is it, is it not, stage of snoring that spoke of exhaustion and not REM cycle yet. So, he chose not to listen to her; so be it. He'd see how ridiculous he was being tomorrow morning when he'd wear that thing and see how badly it matched his complexion. But her glare had already softened and as she stared at him, sleeping, she couldn't help but feel her ire melt away. Even in his sleep, he looked so troubled.

She felt like an ass, even if she did accomplish what she set out to do—make him feel comfortable enough to sleep.

He had so many things to worry about, wardrobe should not be one of them. If he wanted to dress like a watered-down kappa, he had the right to; it's just that she had the obligation to tell him not to. But not the right to throw his suit on the floor, definitely; that was a bit of a dick move. Against her better judgment, she put her hand on his forehead then, and wiped all of the stray strands back, hand running through his hair like ten minutes ago.

Just for a second, a split, scary second he stopped snoring; the next, he went right back to it...only this once, she could tell, his frown had lifted. His face was neutral and there were no wrinkle lines. He had, imperceptibly but undeniably, relaxed even just a little bit, because of her. Or despite. Hopefully that would be a good sign for what's about to come.

.

"Wow daddy, you look so nice! Is this new? What's this colour called? It's my new favourite!"

Tokio smiled, fighting against herself and the line that threatened to spill. She didn't want to believe it when she'd watched him emerge from the bedroom half an hour ago, but he had indeed wore that god-awful thing—to work no less. At least the shirt was white and he chose not to torture her eyes or himself further by opting out of the tie.

Hajime looked at her triumphantly, once Aiko disappeared in her room for her school bag; she shook her head. "Like father, like daughter." He pursed his lips. "Enjoy it while it lasts; you won't be wearing this again...especially after you hear whatever your coworkers will be telling you today. Though—"

She put her hand on her chin, looking over him appreciatively. "—even if, in no way am I saying this is a nice suit, nor that it suits you, somehow, on you, it looks better than I thought it would." She smirked. "It's because you're so tall, detective; and have such broad shoulders," she teased and winked at him.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," he said through a smirk and simply motioned for her to be quick about getting the last of her things, so they could leave. Then he looked towards the hall. "Aiko, hurry up or we'll be late."

"I'm coming," her voice was heard from her room, as sounds accompanied it. Before long, she was in front of them, and all three headed for the door.

.

.

"Hello Hajime," Tokio answered the phone a little breathless, telltale sign she must have been running "what is it?"

"I won't be coming home for dinner; the guys suggested we go for a drink. Do you mind?"

She became confused. "Do I mind what? That you'll go out with your coworkers? Do you," she grew even more confused "do you not want to go and wanna use me as an excuse?"

"No, I want to go. I'm just making sure you don't mind having Aiko all to yourself until bedtime."

She chuckled, disbelievingly. "What's the difference? I'm alone with her till you come back from work anyway. I can put her to sleep no problem..." She didn't know if she should be offended or amused by his questions. "Go have fun with your friends detective," she urged, a lot more nonchalant than he would have expected her "just make sure to come home at a reasonable hour."

"I will." Huh; he really hadn't expected that to go over so well. "See you later then."

"Yeap; buh-bye~!"

She hung up on him just as he heard his daughter in the background calling for her and Tokio giggling. Surprised, looking at his cellphone in wonder, he swiped for the call to end.

"So what did future wife said?" a man with curls and glasses asked teasingly, nudging with his elbow in the process. "You all clear?"

"Yeah; no problem."

"Perfect!" another, with big muscles and red hair exclaimed.

"The gang will be altogether again," the second tallest of the bunch commented as he put his hands around Okita and Saitou's necks "thanks to Tokio. The same Tokio you never told us about; and we know nothing about; and only Okita is—"

"For the umpteenth time, it was her choice to keep it quiet," Saitou snubbed, untangling himself from his friend's hold "will this be your reaction each and every time she's mentioned?"

"Until you introduce her to us," he estimated "yes."

But that yes was unanimous; all five people, Okita excluded, chorused together in a very satisfied, sadistic manner, as Saitou rolled his eyes annoyed. "You'll get to meet her soon enough. Now move."

How would he know that soon enough meant that same night? Bastards had devised a whole plan about it that had he known this evening outing of theirs was just the first step of their scheme to meet his future wife, he never would have gone. But they tempted him with a feel-good night, just like old times at their preferred bar. One drink turned to one too many; before he realised he was positively drunk and although they all did leave their cars at the precinct, he definitely needed someone with him for help.

But instead of one, namely Okita, he got six; they had tried their best to get Okita shitfaced, too but he saw through it: he refused to have more than two drinks and kept a sharp eye on all of his friends all night long. But, at the same time, he really did feel like they needed to meet Tokio; and he did feel a little miffed they chose to lie to everyone, so let their first meeting be this, they deserved it. They'd get to test the limits of this farce—if Tokio was persuasive enough, she'd have no issue. Although, admittedly, Saitou's tongue tended to loosen when he had too much to drink, Okita put a stop to him each and every time he threatened to spill anything he shouldn't.

In one way though, he did say things he shouldn't have; after all this time, he was still singing the praises of one long gone from this world, longing and hurt in his voice as vivid as that first month he lost her. The men exchanged plenty of looks that night, because of it. One even went as far as to comment on it.

"Tokio knows exactly what she's getting into," he had informed them, all arrogance and poise "so don't be too quick to feel sorry for her; it's me that has no idea what he's up against."

"But you are the one who proposed to her," Nagakura, the man with the glasses and curls, reminded him.

"What he means is," Okita jumped right in "they are both very honest with one another; there are no secrets. And they both have issues to work through, so let's just lay off of him, for a second."

"He has a child and is still in love with his late wife; what baggage can she have?"

Okita pursed his lips, half-annoyed, half-amused. "...just be quiet, you lot."

So, not so late that night, Tokio heard knocking on the door. She was surprised to say the least; Hajime had his own keys and if for any sort of reason he had lost them, he would have called to let her know. This either wasn't him or something impeded him from getting to his keys. A little alert – maybe a little worried – she put her book down and headed for the door.

She looked through the eye...only to see Okita and a man she never met, helping Hajime support himself.

Ah. So that's what it was.

Taking a bracing breath, she opened the door wide. "Good evening," she saluted, attitude apparent. She still stepped to the side and let all...six men inside their home. "Hajime, is your stomach upset?" was the first thing she asked, ignoring all the rest, as they put him on the couch. He shook his head no. "Let me get you some water," she suggested and as she stood from his side she glared at Okita first and then the rest of the people in her living room, who still had not taken off their shoes. "Drink it carefully," she advised as she passed the glass.

Thankful to his good motor reflexes, he spilled nothing. In fact, he was well enough to remove shoes and jacket all on his own...but never attempted to stand.

"Say goodbye to your friends and let me get you to bed; but your friends," she turned to stare at them, all meaning "won't leave until I have a word with them."

They all looked at one another sort of guilty, but not really, seeing they had achieved their goal and it was more than amusing to think Saitou of all people was in this sort of trouble. As Tokio helped him inside, who wisely did not speak a single word this entire time, they couldn't help but have entire silent conversations. When she came back, two minutes later, she put her hands on her middle and shook her head.

"What did you say to him? What kind of state is that? Don't get me wrong, he's gonna hear it tomorrow, but I know him; you said something. What was it? Was it about the suit?"

That earned her some laughs.

"And did it not occur to you geniuses to bring him back in a sightly manner? He has a six-year-old daughter to whom I promised her daddy would kiss goodnight as soon as he came back; he can barely walk, not kiss Aiko goodnight." She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "Idiots," she said it scathingly, especially since she saw that bit about his daughter was the first thing that gave an actual blow to their morale that had been entirely to unapologetic up till that moment "you made me out to be a liar. And who are you—I demand names."

"I'm Hijikata Toushijou, their captain at the precinct," a handsome man in his thirties, maybe forties informed "this is Nagakura Shinpachi," he pointed at the man with the curls, "Toudou Heisuke," the tall one "Harada Sanosuke," the red haired one with the big muscles "Okita you already know and this is Aomori Chou," the very definition of national average.

"You already know who I am so I won't spend time introducing myself, but I will take time asserting myself: I get it. You hadn't gone out altogether like this for a long time. And boys will be boys. But" a small pause "I demand he be brought back in a better state than this or, if it comes down to it, you call me and tell me about it so I'll be prepared. Now, I don't know what possessed him to drink so much, but you're gonna tell me so I'll know how much of a headache I can give him. So, speak captain at the precinct," she turned to the one who made himself to be the higher authority, holding him accountable and folded her arms "what happened?"

Still, it was Chou who spoke first. "We just talked; one thing lead to another, one drink lead to the other and, before we knew it, we were singing our high school anthems. It's...it happened."

"And we did want to meet you," Nagakura continued, since she was buying none of that "so we figured, he wouldn't let us meet you if he was sober, so we took a liberty."

"Well," Toudou interjected then, looking at Okita warily "if we're being honest, maybe we were kind of hurt we never heard of you before he got engaged and we wanted him to be in hot water," he admitted, smile turning guilty "just a little."

"Besides," Hijikata did speak this once "we know for a fact Saitou has yet to move on from the death of his wife; and now he's announcing he's getting married? And only Okita knew about it? So I wanted to meet you. What do you have to gain from it? You are not an idiot; nor did you ever strike me as the person who gets lovesick. And you're rich, independent and powerful."

They stared at each other for a long time.

"So, tell me Tokio, what's your motive? Why did you say yes to someone who you know doesn't love you as much as or the way he should? You are just a comfort, a convenience. Doesn't that make you feel angry?"

"Not all the time," she said and refused to look at Okita for whatever reason, lest she gave something away "as to why I said yes..." her crooked smirk surprised them "you can think whatever you want, but the truth is, it was simply the best course of action for the both of us."

"And how do you plan on competing with a dead person? With an ideal? With someone who was so perfect for him, he still pines for her, even when she's not there anymore...?"

"That's easy," she waved him off, but her nonchalance had turned into aggression without anyone noticing the transition "I am actually here." Her crooked smile was chilling. "Didn't peg you for the romantic type, Hijikata-san, to think a memory, any sort of memory, can outshine a real, physical bond. When people leave us, we tend to forget the bad and focus on the good; and if that person left us prematurely, all the more so. But memories pale to experiences. Does he still love Yaso? Yes; I don't think he'll ever stop. But does that mean he doesn't or can't love me? I don't think so."

She looked to the side and back, towards the bedroom, a melancholic, vulnerable expression on her face, emotions changing easily. "It's about time he made new memories, anyway. He deserves as much, at the very least."

And she wasn't that surprised with herself to find she did mean what she said; he really did deserve to love and be loved again. He deserved new, happy memories, whoever it was with; her? So be it. He needed to smile from the heart again. So much worry and anxiousness and every day struggle, for what? To have some entitled, middle aged, bitter woman tell him he's not a good father. Fuck that.

None said anything after that; the silence was appreciative from all sides. Just then, she felt her eyes starting to close all on their own and she was alerted to just how tired she must have been, if she was fighting to keep her eyes open during an argument.

She sighed then. "This has been most educating, but I'm afraid it needs to stop. It's late, I fear we might wake up Aiko-chan and I'm tired on top of it. So, gentlemen, it was nice meeting the lot of you! Hope I get to see you plenty of times in the future."

"It was nice talking to you, too," Hijikata admitted, a grin on his face now, too.

She chucked. "Right; drive safely." She walked them to the door where they all gave her some sort of goodbye one way or another. "You, Souji-kun, are going to make sure I can reach you tomorrow so we can have a nice, long conversation, yes?"

"Yes."

She hadn't noticed him all that much while she was speaking, but he was watching her closely, all the while. Her expression, her words, her eyes...and what he saw, took him by surprise. Thus, his agreement came naturally and without a shred of hesitation. They needed to talk for more things than she thought. Maybe his observations would surprise her, too, who knew. He nodded goodnight and, being the last out the door, descended the stairs.

Closing the door behind them, she took a deep breath that she released two moments later. She needed to decompress. She also needed to go look in on Hajime, see if he was alright. With silent footfalls, she walked to the bedroom, door creaking open. As she looked inside the dark room, with the light from the hall being the only source of light, she watched his figure toss and turn.

"Hajime?" She went closer and saw him still at the mention of his name. "Are you—?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled "I'm causing you trouble."

She couldn't help the chuckle. "No more than expected."

"You've no...obligation to baby me."

"Somehow I think this isn't something common for you, so I won't be too upset. And tomorrow is a Saturday, too, so..."

"Is...Aiko well?"

"Perfectly so."

"She didn't...see me, did she? Like this?"

"Oh no, honey, she's fast asleep."

"Good...good..." he tried to nod, but everything spun around. She noticed.

"Do you need a bucket?"

"I'm not...the throw-up drunk. I'm the...over-sharing one."

"Ah, I see."

That was probably why Hijikata came on so strong just before; he might have let something slip, a little less innocuous than Okita thought, if he was grilling her like that. And maybe some comments about Yaso, too...poor Hajime; she put him in such a position, she felt bad. On the other hand, he must be very tight lipped in general if they didn't think it weird they had to resort to such a tactic to meet her when they wanted. What a day.

"It's been a long day for the both of us; let's just go to sleep. Won't you change clothes?" He shook his head. "I can help you out of your shirt, at least, and bring you your house clothes. Until I too change, you'll be ready."

"Fine..."

She did as she said. He was surprisingly lucid and able, even like that, which was a good thing; she helped him into his tee and then left him alone, but not before making sure he had everything at arm's reach and easy to wear. She went to the bathroom, changed, brushed her teeth, went through the whole routine and when she came back, she found him sprawled half on the bed, half on the floor, properly dressed for the night, discarded articles of clothing in a bundle next to him. Shaking her head, she sorted out the mess, hanged the jacket and the trousers but the shirt was done; it needed to be put in the washer. She'd do it in the morning; for now just putting it up on the chair was enough.

She lay next to him on the bed then, and did her best to pull him up, too; it was actually difficult—he was too tall and just because he looked thin didn't mean he wasn't deceptively built. Damn it! She had to take drastic measures. Since he didn't wake up by her pulling him anyway, she put her arms around his waist and dragged him. It worked, finally. Then it was the legs' turn and soon enough all of him was lying next to her.

Success.

"Goodnight Hajime," she said it more to herself than anything, just to feel like this day came to an end, somehow; so she definitely did not expect the "goodnight Tokio," she barely heard, almost a whisper, coming from him. Nor for his eyes to crack open, even that little bit and look directly at her; and last but certainly not least, the hand that came to rest on her cheek that took up almost all of the side of her face. He did have big hands, ah shit, and they were so warm...she felt her face heat up.

"I'm...really sorry...for tonight. I'll...make it up to you..."

"It's fine," she tried to dismiss him but the hand on her cheek never left and now she was growing redder and redder, but he couldn't see it, because his eyes opened and closed against his will and this was all a mess of half spoken words because she didn't trust her voice anymore, too.

"Hijikata...especially...can be...trouble."

"I gave him more trouble in return," she joked, softly.

"That's...my girl..." A chuckle escaped him, while at the same time that line seemed to sober him up for a second. Something went through his mind but seemed to disappear almost immediately. "He used to...drive Yaso...crazy...she couldn't...handle him...at all."

Oh. He really was oversharing. Interesting. Ah, now she was conflicted whether she should ask more or she should get him to sleep, fuck.

"Yaso was kinder than me, then; and I don't scare easily."

He snorted. "That's...true...you scare...others."

She smiled, putting her hand over his. "Do I scare you, Hajime?"

"Only when your...eyes...look like that..."

"Like what?"

"You know..."

She laughed. "I do. You're kind of scary when you go all silent, too, though; no one knows what you're thinking, it's ominous."

"It's my...only line of defense...against Aiko." She laughed again; he found it was nice to listen to. "Thank you, Tokio."

"Just wait till tomorrow."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes. Sleep Hajime."

He nodded, quite in agreement with that notion, but it felt like he was almost unable to do so. "Sleep, Hajime," she repeated and took his hand from her cheek.

She proceeded to put hers on his forehead. No fever, so that wasn't it—just the warmth from all that alcohol. Still, he seemed to relax a little again, just as she touched him. Huh. That was weird. She did the same thing as yesterday night, taking her hand from his forehead and running it through his hair. She saw him shiver, but not move away this once, like when he was awake and sober; instead he seemed to actually drift off. More interesting things she uncovered this night. Intrigued, she did it again; and again; and again; until, five minutes later, he was positively snoring.

She just stayed there, running her hand through his hair, for a good ten minutes after, until she felt her own eyelids grow heavy. Soon enough, she too was fast asleep.


A/N: By God am I tired...! I'm so, so sleepy right now, but I want to get this out otherwise I'll never get around to it. Tomorrow is going to be just as busy and tiring as today so I'm pushing! Still, I had fun writing it, so I hope you had fun reading it, too. Goodnight from my side of the world and have a nice weekend!

Leave a review on your way out, lovelies. Love,
FAI~!